discovery, death of a hobby

i have made a tremendous discovery. the discovery is the world's BEST motorcycle helmet. it is......drum roll please.....a car. or a truck. or an SUV. or a tank. definitely though, don't just wear a helmet. or leathers. or a kevlar suit. because, odds are, no matter what you're wearing when car or concrete meets biker biker, bike and biker will lose.

working in critical care, i've almost already seen more motorcycle wreaks than i can count. not only is the record for four-wheeled transportation versus motorcycles really really good, concrete is UNDEFEATED. as in, it has never been hurt when a motorcycle rider has hit it, bit it, slid on it, or challenged it in any way.

which is kinda of a bummer for me, man. i used to ride, heavy emphasis on 'used to.'

when i was young and bullet-proof and un-heath-insured, i had a college room mate that had a big bike. some yamaha 600 something or other. i used to luuuuuuuuurve to cruise that thing around, helmetless.

then i got married, and lucky me, got a bike of my own. it was a cheap summer ride, unregistered, just enough to get me to college and work. my wife made one condition; and that was that if i rode, i was to wear a helmet. i did wreak that summer, and of course, the score was concrete 1, me zero. plus scuffed shorts, scuffed elbow, and a pristine helmet. hat didn't even hit the floor.

coincidentally, my wife and i had decided earlier that week to get me a real bike. as in, one that i could legally register blah blah blah. so i layed down one bike and still got another. yeah, i know, my wife is a peach. it is the bike pictured above.

anyway, i'm not a small person. 5'10", about 280......and swarthy. basically i looked like a bear on a bicycle riding that thing around. but it was fun, great on gas and got me from work and school and home just fine. okay, so i did get smashed on that bike, too. but it wasn't my fault! that stupid lady totally did a u-turn into me. and after a little body work, the bike was fine, too. (and i have a story to tell to accompany the resultant scar on the leather jacket i had on at the time. helmet-still unkissed by that wicked temptress of concussion and hemorrhage, Concretia).

now i have no bikes, i wipe the butts of people who had bikes but broke themselves on bikes, and my wife makes me wear a helmet when i ride my bicycle.

oh how the mighty have fallen.